Stupid America
by ChickCanWriteNow
Summary: Romerica/RomanoxAmerica One-shot! Rated T because ... Romano, yo After being 'ditched' by his brother, Veneziano, Romano is forced to call America for a companion. And America naturally picks ice cream as the classic pick-me-up.


**Chick:**** Hi! This is my second one-shot posted, so enjoy~ My PruCan one-shot seemed to actually gain some attention, so I thought I'd post another oneshot I wrote for an early Valentine's Celebration!**

**OH AND I DON'T OWN HETALIA OR THE CHARACTERS KTHXBAI**

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><p>Romano glared at the milkshake in front of him like it had just declared pasta as the worst food in the world. The stupid chocolate mixture stared right back, completely oblivious as to what was happening to the southern part of Italy.<p>

America sat across from him, almost done with his own chocolate scoops of ice cream. He looked at Romano expectantly. "Well?"

"Well what, burger bastard?" Romano griped, shrinking down in his chair with his arms crossed. His mind wasn't on the conversation at hand, it was on why he was here in the first place:

Veneziano.

At the mention of the name, Romano's scowl deepened. He was here because of that stupid idiot. If his brother hadn't have run off with the potato bastard, he wouldn't have showed up here to begin with. He was only here because of Veneziano, who had apologetically cancelled their plans today for stupid Germany. Instead of skulking around alone, Romano had called up America in the hopes of skulking with someone else. Spain was out of the question, seeing as he had plans with Prussia and France. So the burger bastard was Romano's only option.

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><p><em>Romano sat slumped at his table, a glass of wine beside him. His second helping was already almost gone, but the effects were taking a while to catch up to him. Stupid Veneziano. Screw him and his potato bastard. Romano could have fun on his own.<em>

_Of course, when Veneziano had asked if he could spend the day with Germany instead, Romano had said yes to make him happy. And yes, Veneziano had squealed a _grazie_ and enveloped Romano in a hug, saying he would pay him back before he danced out the door to his precious German._

_But that was below the matter. The point was that Romano was alone until his companion could get here._

_He almost cheered when the knock at the door sounded._

_In a flash he had put the wine up and patted down his clothes - an Italian had to look good, after all - and was opening the door._

_America peered at his face through squinted eyes, then snapped his fingers and beamed. "I knew it!"_

_"K-knew what, idiot?" Romano asked, blushing. In his inspection, America had brought his face in super close, popping Romano's personal bubble. It was unnerving._

_"You're upset! You sounded like it over the phone, but I didn't know for sure." America's grin widened as he threw an arm around Romano's shoulder and led him out onto the sidewalk._

_"What are you doing, burger bastard?" Romano squirmed under the arm of the obviously taller nation. His cheeks burned as he pouted and dug his heels into the ground._

_"We're going to make you feel better!" America announced proudly, squeezing Romano to him._

_"And just how are we going to do that?" Romano asked grumpily, pouting slightly in the embrace._

_"Ice cream! It always makes me feel better, so why not you?" America winked at Romano, making the southern part of Italy blush terribly. Good thing he was good enough to hide most of it. But why was America having this effect on him? Stupid America, with his golden hair and sky blue eyes._

_Stupid America, with his tall height and long legs. Stupid America, with his bright smile and expressive face..._

_Stupid America._

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><p>"... Romano?"<p>

Romano jerked out of his reverie, meeting those same blue _blue BLUE_ eyes with his honey brown. America was gazing at him, a concerned look on his face. "Romano, are you there?"

"Of course, idiot," Romano grumbled, stirring the milkshake with his straw halfheartedly.

"I was telling you to take a drink. I want to see if it helps! If not, the hero has to come up with something else."

Romano eyed the milkshake suspiciously. It would be his first time having a milkshake, but he could get some kind of allergic reaction from it or something! America _had_ to know this, right?

_Quit being a sissy and sip the damn chocolate,_ he thought to himself. His lips pursed unconsciously as he pulled the shake towards him, sipping it slightly.

It was good. So good that he closed his eyes and groaned softly. He attacked his shake with a renewed energy, attempting to drain it in one sitting. It may not have made him feel the best, but it tasted exquisite.

America watched him, that bright smile set on his face. Romano was happy, so he was happy.

Romano set down the drink, frowning a bit at the fact that it was all gone. "What do you put in that, idiot?" he asked wistfully.

America shrugged. "All that matters is that you feel better, right?"

Again, Romano blushed. After a moment, he muttered, "Why do you care so much?"

America looked taken aback at that, but he regained his composure and beamed. "Because I'm the hero! The hero has to look out for his friends, right?"

"I'm a friend?"

"Of course! I really, _really_ like you, Romano." America's eyes widened and he coughed into his hand, looking away. "So we're friends."

For some reason, that made Romano feel better than the excellent milkshake. A small smile graced his features, but he was unaware of how excited America got when that little smile appeared. "Right. Friends."

Friends.

_Friends._

"Welp! Time to go home!"

"W-what?" Romano sputtered, put off. They couldn't just go home now! Veneziano was probably having a fiesta with stupid Germany; they needed to do more things so Romano could brag! That was the plan, right? He was having fun!

Wait. _Fun?_

America shrugged. "We have nothing else to do, Romano."

"Oh. Good point." Romano frowned and deflated slightly.

As they got up to leave, America's stupidly amazing eyes lit up again as he smiled at Romano. "Oh, yeah! I forgot something."

That smile. _That stupid smile..._ "What?" Romano asked irritably.

America leaned forward.

And kissed him on the cheek.

Romano stiffened, his eyes going wide. Why was he kissing his cheek? Given, he _liked_ it... But it was sudden! Stupid America with his soft lips and bright eyes...

America craned his head around and kissed Romano's other cheek, then stood straight again. His face was slightly flushed as he looked away again and said, "That's how you greet someone, right? When they're upset?"

_Oh._ "Y-yeah, I guess," Romano muttered. _Stupid _kiss.

They walked back to Romano's house in silence, America leaning back with his hands in his jacket and Romano hunched forward, hands in his pockets.

Well, it was supposed to be silence until America asked, "Romano?"

"What is it, bastard?"

"I didn't do anything wrong, did I?"

Romano sighed. Stupid America. "No. You didn't."

"Good." He was smiling again. Damn that smile.

They were at Romano's door now. Romano tried not to let his disappointment show as he reached for the doorknob. "I guess this is it?"

"One more thing."

Two hands planted themselves on Romano's shoulders and spun him to face America, who leaned forward and kissed his cheeks again. "You're upset again. What's wrong, Romano?"

"What does it matter to you, idiot?" Romano grumbled, fighting to keep his voice above that of a whisper. Stupid voice. No wait, stupid _America._

"We're friends, right? The hero needs to help his friends!" America's tone was completely serious, but still elicited a flutter in Romano's chest. That did it.

"You want to know?" Romano was probably bright red, but he didn't care.

"Of course!"

And so, Romano threw a hand behind the tall blonde's neck and pulled those stupidly blissful lips to his own, kissing him fiercely. It felt good, but even better when America got out of his shocked state and wrapped his arms around his _friend,_ returning the kiss.

For a moment, Romano let himself drift away. He drifted away from Veneziano and the potato bastard. He drifted away from the loneliness. But he still was present enough to know that he was kissing America, and stupid America was kissing back. That fixed everything.

"_That's _what's wrong, idiot."

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><p><strong><span>Chick:<span> So? Did I do well? I've never written a Romerica, so I was kind of winging it on this one. Reviews are appreciated, as always! I hope I can be back with different one-shots soon! :) If anyone has a suggestion for one, feel free to PM me, as I'm running out of ideas... No promises that I will write them, though, so don't get offended!**

**By the way, if you're new to Romerica fics, I suggest Coffee-Flavored Fate! Those stories are the ones that got ME into it, anyways...**


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